Episode 118 – Strange Magic – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 118 Show Notes

Source: Zimbabwean and Botswanan Folklore

This week on MYTH, it’s an African story of magic, mystery, and mayhem. You’ll see that you should be careful where you cry, that you should be careful who you loan your ox to, and that you should be careful where you get your magic charcoal. Then, in Gods and Monsters, what’s it like to be made of wax? This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 118, “Strange Magic”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
We’re dipping back into that fantastic collection of folktales from Zimbabwe and Botswana – The Girl who Married a Lion. Once, long ago, a young woman lived with her father in Matabaleland, in what is now southwestern Zimbabwe near the village of Kezi. The girl’s father just happened to be the chief of their tribe, which meant it was especially important to him that she find a good husband. This wouldn’t exactly be difficult since she was widely considered to be the most beautiful young woman in all of Matabaleland, but you didn’t become chief by collecting bottle caps – he was a cautious dude and he wasn’t willing to leave anything up to chance.
Being powerful means you have access to all the best connections, and this chief used his to call on a respected witchdoctor for help. After a brief consultation about the situation, the chief directed the witchdoctor to provide his daughter with charms to ensure that a good, handsome, eligible bachelor came through their door. It was basically magical catnip for hot guys. “That’s easy, chief. All you need to do is find a special tree – specifically, one that has been burned but kept growing. Have your daughter take a lump of charcoal from the burned part and then rub it between her palms until they’re both coated in coal dust. And that’s it, that’s the whole charm. I guarantee that she’ll soon have herself a super sexy husband in no time. In fact, he won’t just be hot, he’ll be the best possible match.”
The chief was thrilled with this advice. As far as magic goes, it’s extremely simple but if it worked, then who cared? He definitely wouldn’t have thought of half-dead tree charcoal as a solution, so that made this whole thing worthwhile. He had his men prepare food and water for a journey. Once all was ready and packed, the chief and his daughter set out in the direction the witchdoctor had indicated the tree was in.
Even with a general direction, it was harder than the chief expected to find this one specific tree in the middle of the wilderness. After much searching and more walking, the pair eventually reached a small valley that looked like an ideal place for such a tree. Hopeful, the chief hiked up a small hill that overlooked the area to peer down below. From this perch, he could see a great deal of the landscape and, indeed, a burned tree that still had green growth clinging to one side. Calling out to his daughter, he pointed out his find and together they headed down towards it.
When they reached the foot of the half-dead, half-living tree, the chief himself clambered up into the branches to retrieve a particularly blackened branch from the burned half. The daughter took the charcoal and rubbed it vigorously between her palms. As she did so, she described her perfect man aloud. It’s not clear if this is part of the witchdoctor’s instructions or if she’s just riffing. Once she was done with her rubbing and recitation, she looked at her father and shrugged. The deed was done even though nothing really felt different, so they headed back to the village.
The girl’s mother was waiting for them when they came back. “It seems like the charm worked – there’s an incredibly handsome man waiting for you. He apparently got lost on his way to the Limpopo River and needs directions. I told him you knew the way and could help him out as soon as you got back.” I’m not sure it was the best cover story, but the charm apparently worked well enough for him to buy it. Either that or he just needed directions and figured it was easier to wait things out than go looking for someone else to help him.
The girl picked up on her mother’s excitement. She was plenty excited herself and looking forward to seeing the results of the magic. “Oooh, it’s my husband! Where is he? I can’t wait to meet him!” Her mother led the girl to a large rock out back where the young man was sitting. He was everything she had hoped he would be and she was absolutely thrilled. Cue the Dream Lover music swelling in the background. As you would expect from a magical charm that works this damned fast, the young man was just as taken with the chief’s daughter. It was clearly love at first sight for both and so, when the chief proposed marriage, the young man was thrilled to accept. There was just one small problem – he had no house of his own.
The chief smiled indulgently. “That is no problem at all. I am a powerful man, so it is very easy for me to give you some poles and some thatch for you to go and build your very own house. I love my daughter and want her to be happy, and this is a very small price to pay.” “That’s awesome, Dad. Can I call you Dad? I’ll get right on building a house. Would it be a problem if I put it up near the Limpopo River, where my own father lives?” This was a bigger ask than the house. The Limpopo River was a good distance away from the chief’s own village (which is how this young man got lost looking for it), and would make it hard for him to keep a protective eye on his beloved daughter. On the other hand, his about-to-be son-in-law’s father was a well-known chief with a good reputation. He would surely be willing and able to protect his new daughter-in-law from the dangers that lurked around and in the treacherous river. “I think I can agree to that.”
The chief and the young man discussed the marriage plans for much of the afternoon before sending him on his way with the much-needed directions. “This has been a good day. Go and get started on building that house like we talked about. I’ll send my daughter to meet you at your father’s house in a month so she can check everything out. Then, you two can be married and begin your life together.”
That next month was incredibly difficult for the young woman. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the incredibly sexy man she was about to marry until her steamy daydreams got in the way of doing, well, anything else. As the weeks passed, she grew more restless until something finally happened to distract her, but not something she would have hoped for. Her mother grew very ill and very weak. The distraught young woman began spending almost all of her time at her mother’s side, nursing her to health and attending to her every need. The day came for her to set out to meet her husband and her mother was still terribly ill and terribly weak. She was still strong enough to smile at her daughter and tell her how happy she was for the coming nuptials and to encourage her to go.
Torn between joy and sorrow, the girl prepared for her journey. On the appointed day, the chief gave her an ox to ride and waited by the gate for her to mount and settle her things. As she rode past, he smiled up at his baby girl who was all grown up now and handed her a flower. “Take this flower, daughter, and watch it carefully. If you see it wilt and shrivel, then you will know that your mother has died. It’s a hard thing, I know, but your mother wants you to go and be happy. This way, you don’t have to wonder what’s happening at home.” The young woman took her father’s flower and rode out the gate with some trepidation. Would she ever see her mother again? Steeling herself, she headed for the river.
She rode on her ox for a long time until she judged that she was roughly halfway there. Stopping for a rest, she let the ox drink and sat under a thorn tree to eat a small meal and cool off from the heat of the day. As she sat there, leaning against the trunk, the flower in her hand suddenly wilted, its vibrant color fading to gray in mere moments. It was a clear and terrible sign that her mother had indeed died. Overcome with totally understandable grief, the young woman began to weep.
For reasons that are not entirely explained, it would have been inappropriate for the girl’s tears to fall on the earth. I’m not sure if it’s an etiquette thing or a magic thing, but being the child of a chief, she knew that she had to take care not to let her tears touch the ground. It would be wrong. Looking around, she spied a deep ant-hole in the earth. Burying her tears was apparently okey-dokey, so she went over to the hole and let her tears flow freely down into the black depths.
The hole was not as empty as it seemed however. Something lived deep down at the bottom and it soon awoke at the sensation of hot, salty tears falling on its skin. This strange animal was roused by the young woman’s weeping and crawled out of the burrow. She was understandably shocked and terrified at its emergence, but the creature spoke to her in a low, reassuring tone and her fear soon vanished, replaced by curiosity. “So what brings a beautiful woman like you to the middle of nowhere to cry in a hole?” The chief’s daughter told her new friend the whole story about the charm and her fiance and now her mother. The creature considered for a moment then looked out in the direction of the distant river.
“That’s a hell of a story. You know, it’s quite dangerous out here. I think you might be safer if I traveled the rest of the way with you. What say you?” “Well, I would feel safer, and company would make this trip less lonely. Alright, you can come along with me at least as far as the hills outside my new father-in-law’s village.” Thus decided, the girl climbed back on the ox’s back with the strange animal loping easily along beside her.
They had gone a little ways like this when the creature looked up at her. “I’ve been admiring your clothes. They’re so very beautiful! I wish I had an outfit as lovely as that.” The girl looked down at the bedraggled and sorry-looking creature and felt pity stir in her heart. “Well, would you like to try my outfit on for a little while? It’s okay, I don’t mind.” “You mean it? Really? Oh that’s wonderful – no one’s ever done something so nice for me. I would love to.” And so the girl took off her clothes and let the animal put them on, and they rode on like this.
Some time later, the girl saw the creature looking up at her again as they traveled. “What’s it like riding on an ox like that? Is it comfortable? Is it fun?” The girl considered. “I don’t know about fun, but it’s certainly comfortable and a hell of a lot easier than walking especially in this heat.” The creature nodded but its face looked crestfallen. “It does look very nice. I suppose I’ll never know what that’s like. I’ve never had a chance to ride an ox and I guess I never will.” The girl considered again. “Well, would you like to ride this ox for a little while? I’ve been riding all day, so I could stand to walk for a bit.” And so they swapped places with the butt naked young woman walking along beside the ox as the clothed creature rode. It smiled when the girl wasn’t looking because it had noticed something she had not – the cattle pens of the village the girl was headed to. They were almost there.
The young man’s father was standing by the gate watching for his son’s bride-to-be’s arrival. Today was the appointed day and the hour was getting late, so she should be there any minute. Just about that time, he saw the pair approaching, one dressed in fine clothes and riding on an ox, the other walking naked beside it. Naturally, he assumed that the rider was his son’s fiance (because how in the hell could he predict something like a creature living in a hole being awoken by tears?). He was more than a little surprised at her appearance. His son had gone on and on and on about how beautiful she was, yet the, erm, ‘lady’ riding the ox was homely to put it nicely. To be more honest, she was butt-ugly. You know, because she was actually a weird unnamed creature that lived in a hole in the ground in disguise. Still, he tried to be optimistic. The poor thing had been traveling all day, so maybe she was just dusty and tired. Maybe she would match his son’s description tomorrow.
What about the real fiance, you ask? To her credit, she did indeed speak up. “Wait, no that’s not me – I’m me! I’m the one engaged to your son and I have come all this way to meet him today!” The chief eyed her naked, dusty, ox-less figure. “Nice try. You’re obviously a servant girl and I’m not about to fall for such an obvious trick. If you were really the foreign chief’s daughter, why are you naked and on foot while this young lady rides an ox in very fine clothes?” “That’s no young lady, it’s a strange creature that lives in a hole! I met him on the road and he tricked me into letting him wear my clothes and ride my ox because he said he’d never done it before. I’m gullible, sure, but I’m not lying!” It was no use. The story was just too outlandish to believe even though it happened to be true. He told the presumed servant girl to shut the hell up and led her and the creature in girl’s clothing to the hut that had been set aside for them. The day was already mostly over, so they were told to get some sleep for the coming festivities.
As you might expect, the depressed young woman was beside herself with anguish and she cried herself to sleep. No word on what she did with her tears. The strange animal on the other hand had slept for a long, long time and wasn’t tired so much as hungry. Very. Very. Hungry. He left the hut and nosed around the village sniffing out something tasty. His twitching nose picked something out and he followed it to the chief’s family collection of calabashes filled with milk. He slurped the milk out of each and every one of them noisily and greedily. He even turned each of them upside down to ensure he got every last drop.
In the morning, the family was shocked to find all of their calabashes bone dry. Animals never came this far into the village, so they reasoned that the calabashes must have leaked. All of them. Which is pretty unlikely but I guess I get it. They obtained some brand-new calabashes and filled them with more milk, leaving them in the same place they always did. The next morning, the milk was again gone – the strange animal had again slurped it all down to the last tasty drop.
Once could be a freak accident, but two days in a row was suspicious as hell. This was no coincidence – they had a thief among them. The chief apparently trusted his own people implicitly because he called them together to tell them about these nighttime shenanigans. Fortunately, he had a plan to catch this thief. Telling everyone of your secret plan seems like a good way for it to get back to the thief, but whatever. Maybe he just needed help pulling it off and decided to trust the people closest to him. Or maybe he thought his plan was so clever that it didn’t matter.
In the middle of the village, a deep hole was dug. More calabashes filled with milk were placed at the bottom, then everyone was gathered together on one side (including all visitors, who were definitely prime suspects). One by one, each person was told to jump over the large hole, which was tough but doable. One by one, they made it across safely. When it came to the strange animal’s turn, he took two steps and leapt, almost making it across before tumbling to the bottom. It was a strange sight since the “girl” had seemed able to easily clear the hole. They gathered around and peered down to see the creature drinking greedily from the calabashes. The tasty milk was just too much of a lure and he threw himself into the trap on purpose (which would make for a great ‘Got MIlk’ ad from the 90s).
Seeing this figure drinking like a wild beast at the bottom of a hole, he glanced at the beautiful girl he’d assumed was a servant and reconsidered her story. With this new perspective, he realized that her strange story must have been utterly true. Before the creature could finish drinking the milk, the chief ordered the hole filled in, the creature buried. Once this was done, he turned to the young woman and asked her to explain what had happened again in more detail. She told her story again and, with the sight of the greedily slurping thing fresh in their minds, the people realized that it was bizarre but clearly true. To apologize, the chief gave his future daughter-in-law many gifts and promised that she and his son would soon be wed. The despair and anger of the last few days evaporated at the renewed prospect of happiness, and she almost forgot about her whole ordeal with the buried creature. Almost.
They never get around to telling us exactly what the strange buried creature is, so pick your favorite beastie. It’s a unique and interesting variation on the Little Red Riding Hood story type we saw back in Episode 102. This female protagonist is every bit as naive as her Red counterpart but her Achilles’ Heel is kindness and compassion rather than laziness, so it’s a lot more understandable. And so, with the monster once more buried beneath the earth (as long as you don’t cry down any holes), it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s phenomena are the children of wax.
This story also comes to us thanks to Alexander McCall Smith’s The Girl Who Married a Lion collection. Once upon a time, not far from the hills of Matapos in Zimbabwe, there lived a family whose children were made out of wax. No one knew why this was the case, they were just kind of born that way. Initially, this unusual state of affairs caused the shocked parents much consternation and sorrow (and they wondered if someone had maybe put a curse on them) but, as they grew used to it and saw that their babies were growing into otherwise happy and healthy kids, they got over it. Whatever their flesh might be made out of, their parents loved them dearly all the same.
In fact, as they got older, the wax children turned out to be a delight to raise. They were quiet, kind, and never argued or fought amongst themselves. They were also quite hardy and diligent, each capable of doing the work of two around the house and on the family farm. The only downside was, naturally enough, actually being made of wax. The other villagers had to be very careful about building fires anywhere near them. Oh, and they also had to work only at night because the hot midday sun caused them to soften and, if they weren’t careful, to melt away Frosty the Snowman style.
To accommodate their waxy nature, their father built the children a dark hut with no windows to keep them safe from the sun during the day. They could rest safely in the gloomy interior and come out to work and play once the sun went down. They would tend the crops and watch over the cattle by moonlight just as other children would by sunlight. Most of the kids were fine with this arrangement, but Ngwabi was disgruntled and he would complain to the others in their dark hut. “This is bullshit. We can’t know what the world is like, not really. We only come out once the world is cloaked in shadow so we can see so very little.”
His brothers and sisters saw the logic of this but collectively shrugged and got on with shit. There was no sense agonizing over things that weren’t anybody’s fault and couldn’t really change. Besides, there were upsides to their nocturnal lives – they got to see sights that other children never saw and they had the world more or less to themselves. And, being wax, they didn’t have actual nerves so they didn’t feel pain the way other children did, which was pretty cool. Pain sucked.
Poor Ngwabi wasn’t content. He longed to see the world in vivid, vibrant daylight color. In his dreams, he wandered under the noonday sun and saw the hills standing tall in the distance with the rain clouds soaring in overhead. He saw the paths that crisscrossed the land, leading to all sorts of cool, unknown places but he knew he could never follow them: the footing was much too treacherous and dangerous to walk at night. He and the other wax children could never discover where they went.
Ngwabi’s burning desire to see the daytime world only grew stronger as he grew older. One day, he could stand it no longer. As they all rested in their darkened hut, he stood, went to the door, and threw it open. His brothers and sisters screamed in surprise and fear for their brother, begging him not to give in to his self-destructive impulse. He threw all of them off, ignoring their cries, and headed out. The sights were every bit as vivid and incredible as he’d dreamed, but the sun was even more brutally hot than he’d ever imagined. He only got a few steps along the path before he felt the strength leaching out of his limbs. Ngwabi realized he’d made a terrible mistake and tried to return to their dark sanctuary but it was already too late. His body melted under the intense heat and, crying out to his horrified siblings (who were powerless to do anything but watch him die), he melted into a dusty puddle. His siblings wept and held each other for comfort after the horrifying death of Ngwabi.
They huddled together like this until the sun was down and the world was safe, then they went to where their brother had died. They pried up the puddle of wax and carried it to Ngwabi’s favorite spot. His eldest sister molded the wax into a bird to symbolize the freedom he’d always longed for, great wax wings outstretched. They covered the wax memorial with leaves for feathers to keep his body from melting. You know, again. Which begs the question, if that works, why didn’t they do that from the beginning? Whatever, don’t think about it too hard.
Once this painful but somewhat cathartic event was complete, they went together to inform their parents of what had happened. I’m not sure where they were that they didn’t hear Ngwabi’s agonized cries but maybe their chores took them too far afield. Weeping and hugging their surviving children, they came to the bird that had once been Ngwabi. They held it and kissed it, then set it on a rock outside the hut he had so recently lived in. That night, they were all understandably too depressed to do any work, which their parents understood and supported.
When morning was nearing, they all went back into their hut. They gathered around a small hole in the wall and watched as the sun’s light crept over the hills and lit up Ngwabi’s wax bird with pink fire. As the sun itself crested the horizon, the wax bird suddenly moved, its great wings rustling. With a mighty leap, the bird took to the air and soared up over the hut. Dipping its wings in tribute to his beloved siblings far below, the bird flew away over the hills and disappeared. Far below, the wax children knew that their brother was finally happy.
And that’s how the story ends. It’s a surprisingly optimistic finale to a story that feels pretty dark. There’s no explanation given for why the children are wax other than an offhand comment about a possible curse, but I kind of like that. The parents realize it doesn’t matter that their children are different or why, only that they love them. It’s a great lesson.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth, on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod, and on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Next time, dragons roam the wild places of Ottoman Turkey. You’ll see why you should always be on your guard for dragon attacks, why you should trust your explorer instincts, and why you should make friends with magic horses. Then, in Gods and Monsters, wizards and witches make beautiful bird babies. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.